


Sky Breaker

by literallymelchior



Category: Frühlings Erwachen | Spring Awakening - Frank Wedekind, Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: M/M, this is so gay, trees are fucking lit, wow this took me years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 10:30:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15046928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallymelchior/pseuds/literallymelchior
Summary: So they became vines, wrapping themselves around each other like a lifeboat in roaring waters.





	Sky Breaker

Hanschen didn’t like children.

They were constantly crying. No matter how many things you gave them or how much you pleased them, they were constantly ready to explode.

Hanschen slathered some sunscreen on a little boy with his face was all red, his lips set in a pout.

“But—but why do I have to put on sunscreen? It makes me look like a sheep, and it makes me all sticky and gross! I don’t like it, and I don’t want it!” The boy stomped his foot, tears streaming down his face. He was so angry that he was quivering, his little hands shaking in frustration.

“Hey, calm down. You know the sun will make your skin go all red and achy. It’ll come off eventually.” Hanschen sighed. He was tired of little kids badgering him to get what they wanted. 

The little boy wrenched out of Hanschen’s grip to join his group of friends, a smile instantly on his face and a bounce in his step. Hanschen squeezed the bottle of sunscreen in frustration, the liquid spilling all over the floor. 

God, when will children ever learn?

“Hey, Hanschen! Hanschen!”

Ernst came running up to him, his Converse digging up mud and gravel. He was like a dog, following him everywhere he went. His hair flopped around his face, and his lips were cracked in a smile. 

That damn boy was always smiling. 

“So, um, uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come to a counselor campfire tonight? The head counselor is hosting it. I thought, because you know, it’s our last week of camp, that i might invite you! I mean, we’re brother counselors, right?”

“Oh—oh, um, sure?” Hanschen looked at Ernst curiously. There was something about him, how his stance was not at all confident. He was lanky, and he walked as if he was a puppet, wooden limbs and all. His eyes were a striking hazel, and the sun hit his eyes just right, the green parts of his eyes shining through his hair.

Hanschen had to admit, Ernst was pretty cute. 

Ernst laughed softly and walked away, leaving Hanschen to stare at his receding back, to wonder about him.

—

“Ooh, are you going to a  _ party? _ ”

Hanschen had just told the boys in his cabin that he was going out, and there was a sudden flurry of commotion, the boys clamoring to know where Hanschen was going.

“No, Dennis. I’m just going  _ out.  _ You can’t have a party in a summer camp.” This was the last thing Hanschen wanted. These kids never seemed to run out of battery—they were always hyper, always energized, even at 12am on a Thursday. Hanschen was scared of their noise getting the attention of the head counselor. So before the kids could say anything else, he simply grabbed his backpack and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

He was out.

Hanschen descended down the wooden steps and walked the gravel steps, his shoes rubbing against the floor. The night sky seemed to shake and quiver under him, the stars shining at him.

He slowly began to hear the sweet sound of laughter and the crackle of the fire. He stopped at the campsite border, his shoes shuffling in nervousness.

Why was Hanschen so nervous? He had been friends with these people for months; he had trained with them, had gotten coffee with them on off days. But he saw Ernst, outlined in the fire, his smile stretching into the night sky, his slim hands holding a mug of hot chocolate. He was like an angel in that moment, his silhouette seeming like a promise.

He chuckled softly to himself. He had nothing to lose, right?

Before Hanschen could back out, he was walking into the clearing and plopping his bag on the ground, startling the people around them. 

“Hey, Hansi!” Melchior said snarkly. He was carrying a beer bottle in a paper bag, not even bothering to cover it. He was tipsy already, and his laughter echoed across the lake.

“Ha—Hanschen, so we’ve been here for a while and I—I was wondering if you had some more beer? I accidentally dropped the cooler into the lake and—and now there’s nothing there. Ha!” Melchior dissolved into giggles and fell backwards into the dirt, his limbs sprawled on the ground. 

“Sorry, uh, Melchior, I didn’t bring any beer.” He said over the sound of Melchior’s laughter.

Hanschen got up again and moved to where Ernst was sitting. He was quiet, and slowly watched the flames flicker across the firewood, burning and cracking it. 

“Hey, um, Ernst?”

Ernst jumped slightly and came to face Hanschen, his face cracking into a smile.

“Hanschen! I didn’t think you would actually come! Marshmallow?”

Before Hanschen could react, Ernst was stuffing a gooey, warm marshmallow into Hanschen’s mouth, the sweet substance filling his senses. He coughed a little bit and swallowed, before glaring at Ernst.

“What—why would you—do you even know what’s in these things?”

“Oh, of course I do! But I choose to ignore it. They’re way too good, you know?” Ernst opened the bag again and stuffed three into his mouth, his cheeks puffing out.

Oh, he was so beautiful. In so many ways.

Loving someone was like seeing a sunset for the first time. It was a cacophony of wonderful colors, red and gold, purple and blue. Ernst was that beautiful sunset, filled with all the wonder and love for the sky. His eyes reminded Hanschen of the earth, the smell of dirt and the chirping of birds coming from the forest in the early morning. 

Now and again the great lines of grey-silvery poplars rose and made avenues or lovely grey airy quadrangles across the plain. Their top boughs were spangled with gold and green leaf. Sometimes the vine-leaves were gold and red, a patterning. 

That’s what Ernst felt like to him. 

“Uhh, Hanschen? You okay?” Hanschen was slammed back to reality as he stared at Ernst, his brown eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

“Oh—haha, yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“Oh, um, yeah.”

“Here, I want to show you something.” Ernst grabbed Hanschen by the hand, Ernst’s palms surprisingly rough and calloused. 

They walked across the clearing and disappeared into the forest, their footsteps muffled by the whispering of grass and the crunch of leaves.

As they went deeper and deeper into the forest, the sound of birds seemed to become silent, and all Hanschen could hear was his breath mingling with Ernst, and the soft  _ crunch _ of their feet on the leaves.

They were still holding hands.

“So, um, what did you want to show me?” Hanschen said. His voice carried into the trees and his breath seemed to curl the leaves, tumbling and falling on the ground.

“Look, it’s here.”

Hanschen stared up at the biggest tree he’d ever seen in his life.

It’s branches curled around the other trees, it’s leaves littering the ground. The tree lifted his branches to the sky as if his very presence was enough to beat back the darkness and command the daylight to fall on his papery leaves. His bark shone like the right kind of gold, the sort that inspires the mind to heady heights of imagination, opening doors to fantastical kingdoms.

Hanschen took one hand and leant against the ancient oak, his fingertips gripping into the crevices that ran through the bark. His eyes came to rest on the pattern, chaotic like the cracks in parched summer earth. Under his shoes the golden leaves were as noisy as the static in his head.

Why was it so beautiful? Why did Ernst want to show him this place?

“It’s—it’s beautiful.” Hanschen turned around, and before he could react, Ernst was kissing him.

_ Kissing him. _

As soon as the last syllable escapes Hanschen’s lips, he finds himself interlocked in a kiss. The tender touch they share made the forest around them disappear. Hanschen is spinning and standing and not even breathing but he’s alive, so  _ very  _ alive and he’s  _ kissing _ him.

Everything goes oddly quiet, and all Hanschen could hear was their breath, how Ernst seemed to envelop him like a tree to its branches.

Ernst was a sky breaker. A wonder and vision to Hanschen, a vision of gold. So they became vines, wrapping themselves around each other like a lifeboat in roaring waters. 

**Author's Note:**

> Summer Camp AU for thechrissyg on tumblr.


End file.
